


nothing to fear

by sightstone (symmetrophobic)



Category: League of Legends RPF
Genre: Gen, Me Neither, please enjoy, you know that trope where someone turns into a baby for reasons unexplained
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-04
Updated: 2017-05-04
Packaged: 2018-10-28 01:32:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10820943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/symmetrophobic/pseuds/sightstone
Summary: The capricious gods of league decide it appropriate to turn MVP's toplaner into a baby for a fortnight. And because life likes to screw him over like that, Kyuseok's predictably the one to suffer the most (or gain, depending on how you look at it).





	nothing to fear

**Author's Note:**

> set pre-worlds '16, ty ray for betaing~
> 
> (i need to start writing things that people will actually read)

Kyuseok does not have a problem with living in a team house with four other very enthusiastic boys his age.

As long as they don’t clog the toilet or steal his food or make noise when he’s trying to sleep, he’s pretty much fine living with any human being.

Progaming is a tough career to climb, and offseason is a dull, disappointing time full of waiting and practicing. It’s even worse when they get let off early, and Kyuseok has to watch the playoffs through a screen, Junhyung half asleep on his left and Hyunsik snacking noisily on sweet potato chips on his right, rather than from inside the booth itself.

_That could’ve been us._

The rookie jungler shifts restlessly, brushing crumbs off his arm. It’s cold- Junhyung’s jacket is soft against his arm, and he thoughtlessly buries his hand in the other boy’s pocket.

“I don’t know why we’re even watching when we know who’s going in eventually,” Junhyung says sleepily, tucking his face between the couch and a jersey that’s been there literally since the beginning of time, Kyuseok does _not_ want to think about that.

Gunmo snickers from the other end of the couch- for a maknae, he’s got a lot of experience throwing his weight around this team, Kyuseok notes, disgruntled.

“Don’t speak too soon,” Jongbin says from some distance away- the jungler doesn’t even know how he’d even heard their conversation through an earbud and 30minutes into a losing game of league. “I wouldn’t write Samsung off so fast if I were you.”

“People wrote us off too, when we got in,” Hyunsik says, spraying Kyuseok with sweet potato crumbs.

“Uh huh,” the other boy grumbles, trying to sweep most of it off himself, but he can’t- Junhyung’s claimed his other arm, locking him to the backrest of the couch. “You’re cleaning that up later. And besides,” he mumbles, ineffectually brushing his lap. “Not like they were wrong.”

A quiet team house is nothing new, but there is quiet and there is _quiet_ \- Kyuseok glances over uneasily after a moment to see Gunmo staring at the screen, brittle fingers slack around a rough cushion. It’s easy to forget how young he is- how young they all are, for crying out loud, and a year makes a big difference in an industry like this.

“They will be until we leave,” Jongbin says without turning around. How he manages to say that in such a lackadaisical manner, Kyuseok will probably never understand. “I’m Sanghyeok’s age, mind you,” he turns around to say drily, to Kyuseok. “And my professional experience before summer this year pretty much totalled up to two seasons stuck in Madlife’s shadow.”

On his screen, the ally nexus explodes, and Hyunsik extends an arm, resting it casually on Gunmo’s shoulder and shaking him out of his little stupor.

“Join us. No one will be playing tonight, anyway- this match says who goes to Worlds as third seed,” he says. Kyuseok’s about to tell him to give up, but Jongbin does actually throw in the towel and walk over, settling heavily on the seat beside Gunmo.

Junhyung yawns, then, bringing his hood up and grinning sleepily at the rest of them. “Next year,” he points blearily at the screen. “We won’t be there either. Because we’ll have won.”

“Yeah, in your dreams,” Kyuseok tugs his hood further down his face, grinning, and Junhyung whines.

“Don’t you want it, though?” Gunmo says quietly, legs gathered to his chest, so he takes an absurdly tiny amount of space on the couch.

The jungler stares at the TV, thinks of the ROX post-match euphoria he’d secretly replayed countless times on his computer screen in the dead of the night, imagining it’d been them, and- “yeah,” he half shrugs, half whispers. “Who wouldn’t?”

Junhyung smiles, then- Kyuseok can feel the butterfly-light movement of it through the thin material of his shirt, against his shoulder. “Wake me up when KT wins.”

*

KT does not win.

This both unsettles and gives Kyuseok hope. If someone like Samsung can make it up, then there should be room for MVP up there too, right?

They stumble to bed after four solid hours of post-match inspired soloq, with the exception of Gunmo- he’d turned in early, complaining about a headache. Hyunsik stays up later, but they’re all used to his workaholic habits by now, and Kyuseok’s mind is buzzing too heavily to care.

It feels like any other ten o’ clock morning when the jungler blinks awake blearily on his bunk to the sound of his alarm, glasses somewhere under his bed and warm blanket threatening to pull him back under. There’s a staff member clattering about in the kitchen getting brunch ready, and Junhyung’s thundering around the house outside, making tiny dinosaur noises-…

Tiny dinosaur noises. Huh. That’s new.

Kyuseok rolls out of bed reluctantly, glancing over to see Jongbin still out cold and Hyunsik’s bunk in a mess. Why the AD carry would be awake so early, he has no idea.

The jungler gets out and makes a beeline for the bathroom, fully intent on washing his face and peeing before Jongbin gets in and starts on his infamous long showers, and Junhyung’s tiny dinosaur noises have subsided, thank heavens.

Then Kyuseok stops dead in the middle of the living room, past their PCs, staring.

He has seen Hyunsik do many strange things. He has seen him playing console games upside down on the couch, soloqueueing in nothing but his underwear, and eating peanut butter and jam on the same piece of bread. It’s slightly humiliating, then, that the sight of him carrying a tiny baby, a deer-in-the-headlights look on his face, should tilt Kyuseok so much.

The jungler opens his mouth, then closes it, twenty-three explanations for the current situation rising in his head and eventually settling on the one that allows him to shout the most.

“You- irresponsible- piece of _shit_ ,” he manages to string together, pointing, head pounding. “ _When_ -…who did you get pregnant-…”

“It’s not like that-…” Hyunsik starts nervously, anxious mostly because the baby looks like it’s about to start crying again.

“Don’t _tell me what it’s like,_ you-…”

“Kyuseok, it’s-…” Junhyung intercepts, looking slightly frazzled. “The baby. It’s Gunmo. Gunmo turned into a baby.”

The jungler repeats the above process of mouth opening and closing. A bunch of thoughts run through his head at once, most of them revolving around the idea of permanent retirement from the esports scene.

“We found him like that in his bed, he shrank out of his clothes and everything,” Hyunsik leaps on the opportunity to speak while Kyuseok’s struck dumb.

“ _How-…_?”

“We don’t…really know,” Junhyung says uneasily. “We haven’t had the chance to call either of our coaches, they’re still back home, and uh-…” he glances furtively at the kitchen, where the staff member’s still amiably preparing food for them. “I think there’s something they know that we don’t about this.”

Kyuseok sinks into the couch, because his knees have gone weak. _Our toplaner is a baby._

“Our toplaner is a baby,” he repeats dully.

There’s a sound by one of the bedroom doors, and all of them turn around at once to see Jongbin, standing there with a bedhead and glasses slightly askew, staring at Hyunsik carrying the baby.

It doesn’t help that the elderly ahjumma preparing breakfast walks by at this point, setting some food on the table, before addressing Hyunsik with a quavering smile. “He has your eyes.”

Jongbin turns around and walks back into the room, and both Kyuseok and Junhyung spring up to stop him from presumably opening the window and jumping out.

Outside, Gunmo starts to cry again.

*

“So you’re saying,” Jongbin says in a considerably more measured tone later, over a cup of coffee and the sound of Gunmo’s angry crying in the background. “You woke up, and Gunmo was a baby.”

“Yeah,” Kyuseok says- they’re all a little tense, the crying of a baby tends to do that to people. “Can you make him quiet?” he says shortly, to Hyunsik, who’s rocking Gunmo with a slightly panicked air. The baby’s face is a wet, angry red, eyes scrunched up, little fists waving aimlessly.

“He won’t _stop_ ,” Hyunsik says. Junhyung reaches over, then, lifting Gunmo into his arms and standing up to start walking around the room. All of them watch pensively as his cries start to peter out slowly, and he quietens down, tears staining dark patches in Junhyung’s shirt.

“I think he’s hungry,” Junhyung says, rocking Gunmo up and down steadily. “Someone needs to go get milk powder.”

“I think we should call Coach,” Hyunsik says, watching the baby uneasily.

“We should do both,” Jongbin seems to have gotten over the denial and into acceptance pretty quick- Kyuseok’s still trying to pinch himself awake. The support stands up, feeling around the couch for his phone. “One of us go get milk powder, I’ll call him, Junhyung keep Gunmo quiet.”

Hyunsik and Kyuseok exchange glances. Neither of them feel particularly hot about going milk powder shopping alone.

“Thanks both of you for volunteering,” Jongbin says without looking up. “And pick up some diapers on your way, will you?”

*

“It’s so unfair, he’s _younger than me_ ,” Hyunsik gripes, as they walk down the supermarket aisle together, Kyuseok desperately Navering milk powder brands. For heaven’s sake, they don’t even know how old Gunmo is right now. “Why does _he_ get to boss me around?”

They’ve been lurking here for at least 15 minutes, and the store assistant’s starting to give them furtive looks.

“Ugh, let’s just get this one,” Kyuseok picks the second cheapest one off the shelf, before hurrying over towards the diaper section. “How big of a pack do you think we’ll need?”

“It shouldn’t be much, right? Gunmo should be turning back in no time,” Hyunsik grumbles, obviously still salty, looking at packs of baby wipes and powder. “Hey, we need these too, don’t we?”

“None of us know anything about taking care of babies,” Kyuseok says, trying not to escalate into another stage of panic. “We’re going to accidentally kill him with the wrong milk powder and we’ll be disqualified from the 2017 spring season and have to find a new toplaner.”

Hyunsik looks at him for a moment. “Getting disqualified is your biggest concern? No wonder baby Gunmo doesn’t like you.”

“Shut up,” Kyuseok snaps. “Hyung,” he adds grudgingly. “How are we going to do this? I bet he’s crying back at the dorm now, or- or Junhyung’s going to drop him, or Jongbin will shout and make him cry,” he makes a strangled noise, attracting the alarmed attention of a passing housewife. “I’m only 19, hyung, I’m not ready to be on an episode of Baby Daddy.”

Hyunsik grabs him by the shoulder and looks firmly at him. “Kyuseok. Chill. Jongbin’s going to have it settled once Coach comes back. It’s not like we’ve got matches or anything these few days, and we’ll be on break soon,” he squints, then. “And you need to stop watching weird American sitcoms. Why can’t you be normal and just watch dramas?”

“Speak for yourself,” Kyuseok grumbles, though considerably less frazzled now, as he drops a medium pack of diapers and baby wipes into the basket. “I’m just glad we’re having a better time than Junhyung and Jongbin probably are now. Do you think we’ll need baby food?”

*

Kyuseok returns fully prepared to see the house burnt down, and possibly 1/3 teammates surviving.

He does not expect to open the door to a pair of delighted giggles coming from the couch, and the entire house completely intact.

“Aww, that’s so cute,” Hyunsik casually ditches Kyuseok by the doorway to go over.

Junhyung looks up, then, from where he’d previously been leaning over, and grins. “You guys got the milk! Please tell me you got diapers too.”

“Yeah, I remembered,” Kyuseok says, slightly offended and mostly curious. “How’s Gunmo doing?”

“He’s such a _happy baby_ ,” Junhyung coos, in possibly the most disgusting voice the jungler has ever heard. “Aren’t you, Gunmo-ya?”

There’s another giggle from the couch, where Junhyung had probably laid their infant toplaner down, and Kyuseok feels strangely calmed- _okay_ , maybe things aren’t as bad as they’d seemed.

“If you guys don’t mind,” Jongbin emerges from the bedroom, then, carrying a roll of blankets. “I brought Gunmo’s mattress down to the floor- I couldn’t figure out how to put up a barrier on his bed to make sure he doesn’t roll off. And I called Coach,” he shrugs. “He seemed pretty chill about it, said he’d explain things when he gets here later.”

Kyuseok sets the bags of things he’d bought on the table, feeling almost properly in control now as he walks over- Junhyung’s still gushing over how cute Gunmo is, and even Hyunsik seems under his spell.

Then the jungler pokes his head over the couch to look at their toplaner, with his tiny tuft of dark hair, curious inky black eyes and wandering fists, and dwarfed in one of Jongbin’s old T-shirts, legs angled as if about to roll over on his front.

“Hi there,” Kyuseok says hesitantly.

Gunmo starts to cry again.

*

The jungler is banished to their bedroom while Junhyung tries to calm Gunmo down again.

“I didn’t even _say_ anything,” Kyuseok wails, slightly desperate, over the sound of Gunmo bawling. Hyunsik’s long gotten over the panic phase and is laughing, while poking at the remains of their breakfast.

“He just doesn’t like your face,” Jongbin says, and Kyuseok frowns. People usually like his face. This is a strange concept to cope with.

“Don’t come out,” Junhyung orders, as the jungler attempts to look out- once more, he’s forced back into the room. It’s an insult.

“I’m never ganking his lane again,” Kyuseok grumbles, settling down on the floor. Might as well get comfortable while he’s isolated here.

“Great, come bot more often,” Hyunsik says over a piece of toast, peering in.

The jungler stares moodily at the bland walls as Jongbin chivvies Hyunsik to the table, complaining about _crumbs everywhere_ , and Gunmo gradually stops crying.

Kyuseok’s reduced to tracing cracks in the floor tiles (he’d left his phone outside) by the time he hears the main door click loudly and open, and someone step in.

“Okay kids,” Coach Jaehwan says, rolling something into the house- Kyuseok can hear the trolley wheels against the floor. “I’m glad to see everyone’s still alive, paperwork would be disgusting if someone died.”

Kyuseok waits, with some vindictive satisfaction, for Gunmo to start crying again. Needless to say, he’s horrified when met with a calm silence, followed by a happy baby giggle.

“Man,” Jongbin comments, looking in at Kyuseok. “He really _does_ hate you.”

*

“So, this baby thing,” Coach Jaehwan says dismissively (he’s holding a half-eaten piece of bread, for crying out loud, this situation is not being awarded the weight it deserves). “It’s normal. Every team experiences it at least once. With most of you being new or underused subs,” he nods unceremoniously at their botlane, who both blanch simultaneously. “It’s no surprise you’ve never seen it before.”

“But _why_? How?” Junhyung asks, wide-eyed. In the other room, Gunmo makes another tiny dinosaur sound, where he’s with Coach Jongwon, possibly his second favourite person in the house. (It’s so _unfair_ , Kyuseok thinks, Jongwon-hyung _just arrived_ ).

Jaehwan shrugs, taking another bite of his coffee bread. “It just happens. No one questions it.”

“Why Gunmo?”

“The capricious gods of league thought it appropriate,” Jaehwan suggests. “Anyway, nice work buying the diapers, though the milk powder is a little advanced for his age- he’s just under a year old, maybe? Jongwon hyung and I brought some supplies passed down from the Dota team, they should still be fine for us to use.”

“How is this real?” Jongbin says dubiously. “Progamers turning into _babies_ , has no one looked into this?”

“Well,” Jaehwan says, after some thought. “We did have some cases of them turning into girls. And no offence,” he says, pointedly not looking in one direction as he speaks. “But I think that’s something we’d rather not witness.”

There’s an awkward silence. Then Hyunsik says sourly: “Thanks, coach.”

“So,” Jaehwan ignores him, ending the discussion with an airy wave and another bite of his bread. “Things are going to be fine, you guys just focus on practice. Our scrims aren’t restarting for a while- we’ll get Jongwon to stand in for Gunmo if it comes down to it, or something.”

“When will he turn back?” Kyuseok asks, just a little tired of all this. “He _will_ go back to normal soon, right?”

Just then, there’s a squeal, and Gunmo comes crawling at top speed out of the bedroom in his diaper and an oversized romper that’s half hanging off him, obviously having escaped Jongwon. This thrilling sequence stops short when his knee catches on a part of the romper, and he tumbles sideways onto the floor, before looking mildly stunned.

“I don’t know why you’re all that fussed, Kyuseok-ah,” Jongbin comments, as Junhyung coos, going over to pick Gunmo up and fasten his romper properly. “I wouldn’t mind him staying like this for a while.”

*

Life goes back to normal, then- sort of. As normal as it can get with baby toys squeaking in the background during soloqueue, or with Junhyung and Jongbin (Gunmo’d recruited him over to the dark side, too) making disgusting cute baby noises when they’re feeding Gunmo from a bottle.

He’s a thankfully rather low-maintenance baby, getting hungry at predictable times and giving up after a few tries when someone tells him not to do something. They quickly find out too that apart from the first morning, Gunmo can’t really be bothered to cry much. The first day passes uneventfully, thanks to Coach Jongwon keeping Gunmo occupied while the rest of them go back to soloqueue, but the noise (no matter how minimal) is distracting.

“Wanna duo?” Hyunsik whispers, at eleven. It takes Kyuseok a few seconds to remember why they’re speaking quietly, and grudgingly accepts.

“Yeah, sure,” he whispers back. Coach Jongwon had left to put Gunmo to bed some time ago, when the baby had started yawning into his teddy bear and rubbing his eyes.

He doesn’t cry at the sight of Kyuseok anymore, thank heavens, but still scrunches his little face up and stares warily every time the jungler walks past. It’s terrible. Kyuseok’s never had someone not like his face this much before.

“What do you think?” the younger boy asks lamely, as Hyunsik gets into queue with him.

“About?”

“Everything,” Kyuseok gestures lamely. “Gunmo. You know.”

“Why he hates your face?” Hyunsik snorts.

The jungler deflates in his chair. “Did he _hate me_? You know, when he was-…normal,” he squints, trying to remember Gunmo showing any signs of hatred towards him. Their maknae didn’t show much hate- he didn’t show much anything, for that matter. “What if he’s hated me all this time and- and it’s just showing now? _God_ , this is so complicated.”

“Sounds like a drama,” the AD carry sounds like he can’t exactly be bothered to respond. “What do you wanna play?”

The jungler sighs. “Anything,” he mumbles, shrugging. He can’t help but feel defeated, despite the fight having barely even started.

*

The worry doesn’t exactly keep him tossing and turning at night, but it’s enough to make him feel uncomfortable whenever he sets eyes on the little baby crawling around their dorm, finding things to put in his mouth (so far he’s tried to eat Jongbin’s old gaming mouse, Junhyung’s chair, Coach Jongwon’s watch and the little stuffed toy hanging from Hyunsik’s bag, amongst other things).

Kyuseok watches pensively as Gunmo’s fed his lunch, the baby nestled comfortably in the crook of Junhyung’s arm on the couch, holding his foot with one hand while he stares disinterestedly at the ceiling.

They’d started taking turns feeding him when Coach Jaehwan decided they could use the breaks from practice, and it’d become all the more apparent that while their toplaner was a mild baby, he had handpicked a select few VIPs among them to be in his entourage. His favourite, from the start, had been Junhyung (for _some reason_ , because it’s not like Kyuseok talked to him less than Junhyung did, right? Right?), Coach Jongwon coming in a close second, Jongbin third, Hyunsik and Coach Jaehwan fourth, and Kyuseok, delightfully, in last place.

Junhyung makes a (rather disgusting, in Kyuseok’s opinion) face at Gunmo when he finishes the bottle, cooing proudly again, and Gunmo half coughs, half smiles, a curious, gummy smile that shows off all his five teeth. It’s a terribly warm and lovely sight.

The baby coughs again, hiccupping, as Junhyung lifts him up to stand him against the side of the couch. Gunmo can’t walk or stand without support yet, but is an adept cruiser, for some reason, and Kyuseok watches, tight-lipped, as their maknae makes his way leisurely along the couch, holding onto the worn material, pausing to taste an old shirt left there since goodness knows when. He blanches, making Junhyung laugh as Jongwon runs over to get rid of the jersey, before continuing on his merry way, chubby feet moving steadily.

The jungler groans when he looks back and realises someone in his game had dodged in pick/ban, and is punted back to queue reluctantly. It’s a slow afternoon, made worse by the fact that he’d been woken up earlier today by Gunmo crying when he’d fallen off the couch after having his morning milk. All of them had jerked awake at the noise, but Kyuseok was the only one who hadn’t been able to fall back asleep after it.

Junhyung disappears into the kitchen to wash the bottle, and soon the living room is quiet other than the constant keyboard and mouse clicks and the faint sound of running water.

Gunmo peels off the couch, dropping smoothly off at the side, before crawling over to stare at the rest of them. After the first few warnings from Jongwon, surprisingly, he’d stopped crawling over to bother them (Hyunsik almost rolled over Gunmo’s little fingers on his chair once, and their baby toplaner had been effectively banished from the area), so he sits outside an invisible boundary, looking up curiously at all of them.

Kyuseok stares.

The baby starts gnawing toothlessly on his knuckles thoughtfully, returning the favour with wide eyes. This is progress, Kyuseok supposes- curiosity is better than hostility. He blinks uncomfortably, before turning to glance at his computer, resting his chin on a palm and trying to play it casual.

Then Gunmo does something weird- he puts his hand on the side of his face, still staring at Kyuseok, then leans to the side, but since his elbow isn’t supported on anything, he almost topples over, regaining balance at the last second. He tries it again, and for a moment Kyuseok wonders if he’d hit his head falling off the couch this morning.

“He’s mirroring you,” Coach Jongwon chuckles fondly as he walks over, and Gunmo loses interest in the staring battle, raising his arms and blinking blithely in a request to be carried. “It’s cute, isn’t it?”

“A step forward,” Jongbin announces from his end of the room. “Keep it up Kyuseok-ah, maybe he’ll start wanting to be held by you next.”

The jungler leans over to scoff at him, but notices Junhyung’d returned to the living room, glancing at him as he walks back to his PC.

“It’s nice,” the midlaner says contentedly, half to himself as he takes a seat. “I think it’s good.”

Kyuseok laughs nervously, turning back to his computer and cursing when he realises he’d accidentally dodged a game, going back into queue with a little frustration.

Maybe all isn’t lost, then.

*

Somehow, this translates into Kyuseok and Junhyung going out to buy Gunmo more baby things the next day.

“He’s going to turn back any day,” Kyuseok complains, while the midlaner browses baby food. “There’s no _point_.”

“There is, you’re just missing it,” Junhyung scrutinises a brand of apple baby food. “I heard babies find the apple flavours sour.”

“Yeah, baby expert?” the jungler grumbles, realising sorely that he’s acting like a child, as he walks over to glance at the baby food. “Where’d you hear that from? Your innate mothering instincts whispering to you?”

“I Naver’d it last night,” Junhyung replies, a tad coldly, before turning away and picking up a pumpkin one. Kyuseok remains furiously and shamefully mute for a while, before looking at the bottle of baby food reluctantly.

“Gunmo likes pumpkin,” he mumbles. “He liked the fritters we bought that time we went to the night market when it came earlier this year.”

“Yeah,” the younger boy responds, a little wistfully. “Maybe we’ll try this one. He’s getting sick of the milk, he kept eyeing our rice last night,” he scans the other bottles. “So should we get this brand of pumpkin, or that brand-…”

“How do you do it?” Kyuseok blurts.

Junhyung blinks. “Do what?”

“Make him like you so much.”

“Gunmo?”

“Yeah, like,” Kyuseok mumbles. “Why does he get along so well with you?”

“I don’t know,” the other boy shrugs. “Did you even try?”

“I did!” the jungler says indignantly.

“Once,” Junhyung raises a brow. “You know, if you just tried a little more-…”

“He won’t even let me get near to him!”

“Once. You never tried after that. Not trying _harder_ , trying more,” Junhyung picks up both pumpkin flavours and scrutinises them. “We should do something with him tonight.”

“Do _what_?”

There’s a long, plot-tool worthy pause, then, as Junhyung glances at the pumpkin food thoughtfully. “Well…”

*

Kyuseok hates his life.

Gunmo sits in his modified high chair (a normal baby chair with a fix-on tray), nonchalantly banging a squeaky toy against the tray as he stares at the rest of them eating their food. He is not interested in Kyuseok, nor is he interested in the little double-boiled bottle of baby food Kyuseok’s holding in shaky hands.

“Dude, just take the spoon and feed him,” Hyunsik rolls his eyes, where he’s eating his dinner, the privileged jerk. “You’ve been just sitting there for the past five minutes.”

“He’s not even _looking_ at me,” Kyuseok stresses. He pokes the baby food again, not sure how to even get Gunmo’s attention.

“You think everyone wants to look at you,” Jongbin snickers, and Kyuseok sends him a deadpan look. “This is a great lesson in humility.”

Kyuseok bites back the comment about _you’re just saying that because no one wants to look at you_ , and stares resolutely at Gunmo, still staring blithely at the box of kimchi on the table, feeling bitterness build up at the back of his throat. This is so _dumb_ , why did he agree to this, of course it was never going to work-…

“Yah,” Junhyung shifts closer, and immediately Gunmo looks at him, eyes wide and hopeful, darting meaningfully to the kimchi on the table. “No, you need to hold it,” he insists, when Kyuseok tries to hand him the food and escape.

“You do it,” Kyuseok mumbles, trying to wriggle out, but Junhyung holds fast.

“Just scoop it,” the midlaner takes the hand that’s holding the spoon, then, and navigates it into the mashed pumpkin to get a spoonful. “Gunmo ya!” he says, and Gunmo looks over again, whining as he reaches out for the kimchi. “Aaah,” he says, clearly, and the baby imitates him reluctantly, eyeing the food on the table. And in one movement, Junhyung propels Kyuseok’s hand, still holding the food, to the baby’s mouth.

It takes Gunmo a while to realise there’s food in his mouth. He continues staring thoughtfully at the kimchi, moving his jaw experimentally, before looking up at Kyuseok and Junhyung, eyes lighting up.

“Well,” Jongbin comments- Kyuseok realises all of them had been watching him intently. For a moment, he feels like an exhibit in a zoo, or a reluctant model in a training session.

“I think he likes it,” Junhyung says warmly, cutting off the retort Kyuseok had been about to make. Gunmo’s eyes are searching, landing on the orange bottle in Kyuseok’s hands, and he looks up expectantly at him, still chewing the semi-solid food, a spot of mashed pumpkin on his nose.

“Give him another one,” Junhyung’s half leaning against Kyuseok, then, and his voice startles the jungler into motion. Slowly, hesitantly, he gets another scoop, and Gunmo doesn’t take his eyes off the food first, then Kyuseok himself, as he eats it clumsily, getting orange all over his mouth. Then Coach Jongwon laughs, making the baby smile, legs thudding enthusiastically against the baby chair when he kicks.

In half an hour, three quarters of the food has gone into Gunmo’s mouth, the last quarter onto his cheeks, clothes, tray or onto Kyuseok’s fingers. He half squeals, half hums in contentment as he eats the last scoop, thoughtlessly wiping a hand over his face, smearing the food.

“Hold still,” Junhyung singsongs, leaning over to wipe the orange off Gunmo’s face with a wet wipe, as Jongwon walks over to detach the tray. Kyuseok doesn’t react, still slightly stunned from the experience, as the midlaner cleans his hands too, and Gunmo squirms when Jongwon pulls the little shirt, covered in pumpkin stains, now, over his head.

“Kyuseokie can graduate now,” Jongwon comments, once Junhyung’s finished. “Here, hold him while I get his bath ready.”

And without warning, the coach cheerfully dumps a diaper-clad, sticky Gunmo into Kyuseok’s outstretched arms.

Kyuseok almost drops him (considering they’re all seated on the floor, this wouldn’t be life changing) three times, before finally getting a hold of him in an awkward position. Gunmo complains audibly at the inexperience of the human holding him, before he seems to realise it’s Kyuseok, and stares blankly at him for a good few seconds.

The jungler’s bracing for impact, completely ready for the baby to start bawling again, when Gunmo looks away nonchalantly, glancing up at Hyunsik when the AD carry walks by.

Just as Kyuseok’s letting out the tiniest sigh of relief, then, Gunmo inhales, little face scrunching up, then sneezes, getting snot and pumpkin over the front of the jungler’s shirt.

“Ew,” Kyuseok says, slightly stunned and slightly offended and mostly mystified by this tiny person in his hands. Gunmo looks up at him blithely, mucus dripping from his nose, and then proceeds to wipe his face on Kyuseok’s shirt.

“You can bathe after Gunmo’s done,” Jongbin smirks, lifting the baby out of Kyuseok’s hands, then, and heading for the bathroom, and the younger boy almost, _almost_ , forgets to hurl abuse at him afterwards, inciting a yell from Coach Jongwon about _language, boys, there’s a child here._

Kyuseok tugs his shirt over his head roughly once he’s in the bedroom, almost tripping over Gunmo’s mattress, tossing the fabric onto the floor as he grabs a wet wipe from the pack on the shelf to start disinfecting his skin.

He barely registers Junhyung drifting past him, arm brushing against his bare back when the midlaner avoids stepping on the mattress. “So,” he says, not without a hint of smugness. “You did well tonight.”

“Got sneezed all over too,” Kyuseok grumbles, shivering at the cold moisture of the wet wipe.

“A baptism of fire,” Junhyung grins, and the sight makes the jungler forget his predicament, even if just for a little while. “You know, I feel like this,” he gestures vaguely to some _this_ in the distance. “Wasn’t-…you know. Without purpose.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” the older boy side-eyes him suspiciously. “Like it was meant to happen?”

Junhyung shrugs exaggeratedly, taking a set of Gunmo’s little baby clothes from their makeshift spot in his own closet, before leaving Kyuseok to stew in his own thoughts alone in the room.

*

Kyuseok takes his emotions out on soloqueue that night, as per normal, putting his headset on and mumbling a _no thanks_ when Jongbin asks to duo with him. Everyone goes back to their own routine of soloqueue, quieter now that Gunmo’s being put to bed, and Kyuseok stares resolutely at his screen.

He’s quite sure he’s a nice person. Not the _best_ , but a decent kind of guy. He feels good about himself when he looks in the mirror, and all.

The jungler chews broodingly on a piece of bread as he waits in queue, not in the mood to do much. If anything, he thinks darkly, it’s Junhyung who lives without a brain-to-mouth filter, he says bad stuff all the time. And Jongbin’s so _loud_ , Kyuseok’s never as loud as him so it’s okay, right? And Hyunsik, oh boy-…Hyunsik’s just. Kind of lame. And _then_ there’s Gunmo…

Kyuseok takes another vindictive bite of his bread. It’s probably because he’s not good with babies in general- things will be back to normal once Gunmo’s back. There are loads of people who live like this, anyway. Not like he was planning to start a family after retirement, anyway, who _needs_ marriage, it’s 2016, they’re not living in the ‘60s, and-…

“You think really loud,” Jongbin comments, and Kyuseok almost drops his food.

“You’re noisy,” the jungler bites back through a mouthful of bread.

“Your queue popped,” the support says meaningfully. “Aaaaand,” Kyuseok glances back at his screen, in a panic. “It’s gone.”

“Fuck,” Kyuseok hisses, getting into queue again. “Fuck off, hyung.”

There’s a moment of quiet, and the younger boy realises Jongbin’s still staring at him, an unreadable expression on his face.

“…what,” he grumbles, feeling guilt coil in his stomach. He shouldn’t have said that, not to someone like Jongbin.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” the jungler stresses.

“It’s Gunmo, right?”

“ _No-…_ ”

“Kyuseok,” Jongbin cuts through, pulling rank with his tone of voice. The jungler can feel his stare burning into the side of his face. “If you’re upset about this, you know-..”

“I’m not _upset_.”

The support and makeshift captain doesn’t bother dignifying that with a response. Kyuseok stews silently, praying for his queue to pop and save him from this conversation. Nothing happens.

“Look, I’m just,” he eventually gives in, throwing his hands up. “If baby Gunmo hated your face you’d be pretty freaked too, right? I mean _why,_ did he hate me and just never show it when he was normal? What did I do? We’ve been fine- We _are_ fine. I just-… _why_?”

The last word hangs in the air as Jaehwan exits the kitchen leisurely, disappearing to his room, and Jongbin keeps looking at Kyuseok.

“You’re assuming he hates you.”

“Why else would he cry every time he sees me?” Kyuseok says, a little forcefully. The queue pops, and the jungler impatiently rejects it, turning his chair to face the support properly, and it’s only then that he realises how much he’s been wanting to have this conversation too. “I don’t _get it_.”

Jongbin keeps watching him, this time with a thoughtful hue in his eyes, before he speaks again. “He doesn’t hate you,” he leans back, gathering his legs up to his chair. “The way he cried at the start wasn’t like he was angry at you,”

“Then _what is it_?” the younger boy says, letting out a pent-up breath of frustration. “ _Why_ is he like this?”

There’s a lull in the conversation, then, as Jongbin glances away. “Kyuseok-ah, have you ever thought…” he trails off a little here, speaking quieter. “Have you ever thought he could be afraid of you?”

Kyuseok sits and stares, for a moment, at the impact of this revelation, a mess of emotions bubbling up in his chest and all falling over each other once they hit his throat. “No. He’s not. He-…” the jungler struggles for an explanation. “Gunmo’s not scared. He’s not scared of anything.”

Jongbin gives him an even sort of look. “That’s what he wanted us to think, I suppose.”

The younger boy gapes, thoughts reconfiguring so fast in his head he barely sees Hyunsik glancing over at them, concern reflected in his eyes.

“But it’s not like that now, right?” Jongbin says, a little cautiously. “It’s getting better. And it’ll keep getting better if you just keep trying.”

“Jongbin-ah, we got a game,” Hyunsik says from behind, leaning over to accept the AFK check on the support’s computer.

“Coming,” Jongbin replies, before looking at Kyuseok. “You’ll keep at it, right? Tonight was great, just-…” he shrugs, half-smiling. “Part and parcel of the whole baby thing. I’ll lay off with the comments, I just thought it was nice too.”

Then he rolls away on his chair, mumbling something the jungler can’t hear to Hyunsik, and that’s that. Kyuseok grips his mouse, staring at his computer screen, even until after Junhyung emerges from the bedroom, carrying an empty milk bottle.

 _Afraid_ is different. _Afraid_ changes things. And now, Kyuseok doesn’t really know what to feel about it.

*

Two full days pass, with Kyuseok making cursory attempts to appeal to Gunmo when the opportunity arises (or rather, when the opportunities are nicely opened to him by Jongbin, Junhyung or Coach Jongwon) and it’s mildly relieving, when the baby seems alright just sitting next to him and chewing on a toy, or being fed by him.

There _was_ that one time he’d very contentedly bitten Kyuseok’s hand when it was resting on his fix-on table during dinner as the jungler spoke to Coach Jaehwan about practice time, probably as a request to be fed. Due to his lack of teeth, it’d just felt like a very small, warm and saliva-y embrace, not necessarily the most common of sensations.

Out of shock, Kyuseok had jumped, then, accidentally smacking Gunmo on the head with the spoon for the baby food, which resulted in the baby crawling around for the rest of the night with a vaguely spoon-shaped pink mark on his forehead.

He’d panicked, after that, immediately rubbing the spot gently with his thumb and apologising, while Gunmo just looked rather upset by the fact that a loud noise had been made, and that his spoon of pumpkin food had just been eaten by the floor.

Other than that, though, things have been relatively neutral between them- Junhyung is still Gunmo’s favourite person in the world, sometimes Coach Jongwon, and Hyunsik had recently been promoted to the Milk Bottle Squad. The only one who can feed Gunmo baby food, though, as per Junhyung’s insistence, is still Kyuseok.

And then one night after dinner, as they’re rolling around in the living room, Junhyung decides it’d be a good idea to try and teach Gunmo to recognise his name.

“ _Junhyung_ ,” he points to himself, pronouncing clearly, once he’s gotten the baby’s attention. “I’m Ahn Junhyung. You,” he pokes Gunmo’s little tummy, making the baby smile. “You’re Gunmo. Kang Gunmo.”

“Hyunsik,” Hyunsik slides down next to them, pointing at himself eagerly. “Oh Hyunsik- Gunmo-ya, you know your hyung, don’t you?”

“Ahng!” Gunmo bounces where he’s seated, hitting his own chest.

Kyuseok watches cautiously as he settles some distance away, not going over to his PC yet, as he usually would.

“Kim,” Junhyung pats Gunmo, before pointing at Kyuseok. “Kim Kyuseok.”

“Pumpkin food man,” Hyunsik snickers, as Gunmo blinks at Kyuseok, making little smacking noises with his lips.

Thoughtlessly, then, Kyuseok flips Hyunsik the bird- it’s for a split second, before he remembers that Gunmo is there.

Ignoring Junhyung’s shriek of outrage, then, their maknae frowns, settling on the floor to stare hard at his own chubby fist, fingers extending slowly, one by one, trying to gather the motor skills to make the middle one come up on its own.

Junhyung’s sending Kyuseok stink-eyes and trying to distract Gunmo when Jongbin settles on the floor next to them, reaching over for the baby.

“Hey, check this out, I saw him do it this afternoon,” he says, gently lifting Gunmo up, before standing him on his own two feet. Slowly, then, hands still angled to catch him should the baby fall, he lets go, and Gunmo giggles, surprisingly steady on his own.

“Wow,” Hyunsik says, awed. “I didn’t know he could stand on his own. Can he walk?”

“Let’s try!” Junhyung scoots over, so he’s a few steps away from Gunmo, facing him. “Gunmo ya~!” he claps once, getting the baby’s attention. “Come here, come on~”

Gunmo stares, arms windmilling a little to keep his balance, and he takes a single step, before wobbling and falling over- Junhyung catching him just in time.

They try again, yielding the same result, Gunmo taking one or two steps and then falling over. The cycle repeats, a few times, and he’s almost at three steps when he whines as Jongbin tries to lift him into a standing position again, wriggling away.

“I think he’s tired,” Jongbin rubs the baby’s back, letting him crawl away to sit near the couch, where he leans against the faux leather, looking vaguely stoned.

“Aw, he almost got it just now,” the midlaner sighs, as Coach Jaehwan comes over to clear his throat at them.

They disperse to their normal night routines, and Kyuseok watches Gunmo out of the corner of his eye. The baby’s typical night activity is more toned down tonight, less crawling, less exploring, and soon Gunmo’s just lying on his favourite cushion under the whiteboard in their dorm, chewing meditatively on a toy and babbling to himself.

It takes three hours of games for Kyuseok to feel justified enough to take a trip to the bathroom and get a chilled can of coffee from the fridge, and pauses in the middle of the hallway on the way back, stretching out the kinks in his back.

Gunmo glances over curiously at the noise, and the coffee in Kyuseok’s hands catches his beady little eyes. Another thing about being around babies- you just can’t _eat_ anything around them without them wanting it too.

Kyuseok travels swiftly back to his seat to put the coffee down, but Gunmo’s already rolling over onto his front, getting onto all fours, ready to crawl over to try his luck.

“Yah, hey,” the jungler walks over, chivvying the baby awkwardly away. “Don’t go there, Hyunsik will roll over your fingers.”

Gunmo whines, poking his head between Kyuseok’s calves in an attempt to charge him down and go for the coffee. The baby’s hair is ticklish against his skin, and the older boy steps back, kneeling down to lift Gunmo up.

“Coffee’s bad for you,” he says, keeping his voice low so he won’t disturb the rest of them, and Gunmo eyes him reproachfully, as if chastising him for drinking it. “Hey,” he racks his mind for something to distract the baby, who’s now attempting to side-crawl him. “You know you uh, you walked well just now. You just gotta- try a little more.”

Gunmo’s crawled back to his whiteboard, here, resuming his chewing, now with a grumpy, moody air. Kyuseok pauses in mid-speech, _this is dumb, as if he even understands me,_ but continues anyway. “You know if you just had something to hold on to-…”

He holds his hands out, two fingers extended and arms at shoulder height, trying to demonstrate, and Gunmo looks up, drooling on his toy, apparently forgetting about the coffee issue.

Then, the baby does something unexpected- he drops the toy and crawls over, and while having Gunmo crawl towards Kyuseok willingly is already a feat on its own, the little baby then sits, reaching up to grab one of his hands, still frozen in their position.

“Ahng,” the maknae requests, looking expectantly at him.

“Oh, uh,” the jungler fumbles, getting to his knees, glancing furtively at the rest of them- they’re still engrossed in their games, thank goodness. “Okay, uh, just, stand,” he awkwardly lifts Gunmo to his feet, standing him properly before holding both the baby’s hands. “Now uh. Walk.”

The first step Gunmo takes almost makes Kyuseok stumble, hands shaking a little from the fear that the baby will fall over. The toplaner doesn’t break eye contact, staring at him as he takes another step forward, using the support from the older boy’s hands to keep him standing.

The jungler moves backwards in a semi-circle clumsily, so Gunmo can keep walking forward, glancing back every now and then to make sure they won’t bump into anything. The baby has a surprisingly strong grip, tightening every time he wobbles unsteadily, and he breaks into a gummy smile four steps in, ecstatic, breathy little giggles escaping his throat, dark eyes shining.

It’s terrifying and strange and breathtaking, covering this tiny space with this tiny human clinging onto two of his fingers, knees squeaking uncomfortably against the floor while the tiny pair of chubby feet follow him unsteadily, two dark eyes staring into his, like with every step, he’s falling and knowing Kyuseok will catch him.

Eventually, they make it across the room, and Gunmo squeals in excitement when Kyuseok lets go, managing a jerky few steps before stumbling into the jungler’s outstretched arms, a mess of little limbs and happy noises.

It’s then he catches Junhyung’s eye. How long the he’d been watching them from his seat, Kyuseok has no idea, but there’s a warm, absent sort of smile on his face.

Gunmo’s settling comfortably in his lap, now, clearly exhausted from the exhilarating journey around half the living room, and Junhyung stands quietly, glancing over at the rest of them before quickly crossing the room to join them.

“That was pretty cool,” he says, voice low, still with that knowing grin on his face, and Kyuseok finally scoffs.

“Whatever,” he mumbles, unable to stop the little smile that springs on his face when Gunmo yawns, little lids drooping as he latches onto the jungler’s arm, one leg brought up comically so he looks like a king in a throne.

“We should probably put him to bed,” Junhyung sneaks a look over at Coach Jaehwan’s room, then, and lifts Gunmo up as he stands, gesturing for Kyuseok to follow him. “Cover us,” he whispers to Hyunsik, who rolls his eyes, going back to practice.

Kyuseok can’t deny that he doesn’t feel the least bit confused as he follows Junhyung into the room- he’s never put Gunmo to bed before, and he doubts even Jongbin has. It’s mostly been Coach Jongwon doing it while the rest of them practice, Junhyung helping out sometimes, and what happens after they enter the room, the jungler has no idea.

Their shared bedroom is already dim, a corner glowing orange from the little nightlight that Coach Jongwon had installed, but Junhyung goes through Gunmo’s night routine seamlessly, changing his diaper and clothes and handing him the little Gnar toy a fan had given them some time ago, which had quickly become Gunmo’s comfort object.

“You’ve never put him to bed before, right?” Junhyung whispers, as Gunmo yawns again, lying on his back, chewing sleepily on the ear of his toy. Kyuseok shakes his head- the hum of the fan, dim lights and the muted sounds from outside are making even him sleepy.

Gunmo rolls over onto his front, clearly still wanting to play but barely able to keep his eyes open, and Junhyung laughs, the sound even more magical in the darkness. It feels childish, then, bringing Junhyung’s mattress down from his lower bunk and squeezing it next to Gunmo’s one so they can all sleep together on the floor, but for now it can feel like it doesn’t matter.

Kyuseok doesn’t speak all the way till he lays down, Gunmo nestled comfortably between Junhyung and himself, the baby babbling softly as he hugs his Gnar. The air is tinged with the calming smell of baby powder and tropical fruit top-to-toe wash, and suddenly Kyuseok’s lids feel heavier.

“Sorry,” he mumbles quietly, then, once they’ve settled, the sound of it shocking even him. Junhyung looks over the top of Gunmo’s head at him, though the look in his eyes suggest he already knows what he’s going to say. “For getting. Upset over everything. That time. You know.”

The midlaner’s lips quirk in a smile- there’s a hint of mirth in there, a little exasperation, mostly warmth. “Nah, it’s fine. I would’ve been pretty scared if I were you too.”

Something clicks at the back of Kyuseok’s mind then.

“Scared,” he repeats after a moment, a little numbly. Then he clears his throat and repeats it, as if to cement it in his head. “We were both just afraid.”

“Who was?” the other boy’s already looking sleepy, head on the pillow. Gunmo’s eyes are lidded, arm wrapped around the neck of his toy, dark hair soft in the way only babies have it against the white of the pillow, making sleepy _bababa_ noises.

“It doesn’t matter,” Kyuseok rests his head on the neighbouring pillow, the floor cold against his toes as he watches them, the darkness making it easy to slip out of consciousness, even for him.

“It does,” Junhyung murmurs. In the silence, Kyuseok can feel both their heartbeats, dulled securely through the mattress. He moves closer, knuckles brushing against the baby’s tiny hand, curled into a loose fist in his sleep.

“Okay,” he breathes back after a little eternity, but Junhyung’s already asleep.

*

Kyuseok wakes up to find Gunmo missing, Junhyung still sleeping on the other mattress across him.

It’s barely the crack of dawn, little rays of sunlight filtering into the room, and Kyuseok perks up, alert, wondering if Gunmo’s outside by himself.

But then he catches sight of a tuft of dark hair on the upper bunk- _his_ bed, and strains up a little more to see Hyunsik and Jongbin in their own beds. Then it occurs to him- _oh_.

Reassured, Kyuseok goes back to sleep, then, at least for another hour, until the sound of Junhyung panic-rolling off the mattress wakes him up.

*

“So you don’t remember _anything._ ”

Hyunsik stares Gunmo down from across the table at breakfast- the younger boy looks up from his phone, blinking as he chews on a piece of toast. The house had taken it relatively well when Gunmo had strolled into the living room fully grown, earbuds in and watching an IOI performance on his phone.

“Uh,” he says, eyes darting around, rather unconcerned for someone who’s just been told that he’d spent the last two weeks as a baby. “No. Should I?”

“You spent two weeks as a _baby_. Isn’t that _radical_?”

Gunmo thinks about it for a moment. “Yeah, I guess,” he pauses, glancing back at his phone. “What was I like?”

Everyone sort of looks at each other here, Kyuseok burning his tongue with a mouthful of hot coffee to avoid the question.

“Cute,” Junhyung starts, as usual- only Junhyung can pull off saying something like that. “Really cute,” he pets Gunmo’s head, and the maknae scoffs, grinning. “You should do more aegyo, Gunmo-yah.”

“Mm hm,” the toplaner says absently, going back to his phone. Apparently the detriment that’d hit him hardest upon realising he’d spent two weeks as a baby was the 14 days of Inven memes missed out on.

“Okay, but like,” Jongbin starts, leaning in, and Gunmo looks over, not without a hint of suspicion. “Wasn’t it just the _littlest bit_ weird,” he pauses here for effect, the jerk. “When you like, woke up this morning,” Kyuseok braces, already seeing where this is going. “Totally naked between two of your teammates on a mattress.”

Junhyung simultaneously bursts into laughter and attempts to upend the plate of toast onto Jongbin’s head, and Hyunsik’s laughing too, Jongbin grinning as he tries to avoid retribution, and Gunmo rolls his eyes amidst the chaos at the table, returning to his phone.

“Not really,” he says, barely audible, and Jongbin, ninja-ing through the toast, doesn’t hear him, but Kyuseok does, and looks over curiously.

Gunmo turns his head a fraction, then, catching the jungler’s eye, an unreadable expression on his face. For a split second Kyuseok’s face burns, making him turn away hastily, taking another scalding sip of coffee.

“I’m glad it happened,” Junhyung says finally, once things have settled relatively and Jongbin is brushing breadcrumbs out of his hair grumpily. “I felt like we all learnt something from it,” he ruffles Gunmo’s hair again, and the maknae whines, shrinking away and making Junhyung laugh.

*

Practice goes on as per normal- Kyuseok realises that Coach Jongwon’s and Jaehwan’s treatment of Gunmo isn’t much different from how they’d treated him as a baby, Jongwon lavishing care on him (as he does with the rest of them) and Jaehwan communicating through some sort of common calm deadpan.

He settles into his seat, the one next to him filled for the first time in a long while, as Gunmo untangles his peripherals, yawning into his monitor.

“Still remember how to play?”

The toplaner raises a brow, not looking up from his keyboard. “I hope so.”

“Maybe all that time spent as a baby gave you sick mechanics,” Kyuseok suggests, grinning, and Gunmo looks up this time, a little puzzled.

“Hah, maybe,” he says, starting to smile.

“Wanna duo?”

“Uhm, sure,” Gunmo throws him a hesitant sideways glance as he gets on the League client, and a pause hangs between them for a while.

“…so hyung, uhm-…when I was a baby,” there’s a genuine curiosity in his voice, now, not like at breakfast. “What- happened, exactly?”

“Well,” Kyuseok says evenly. “You sneezed on me.”

“Ew, uh,” Gunmo blanches. “Sorry…?”

“It’s okay, it was cute,” the jungler grins. “You ready?”

The younger boy doesn’t respond for a moment, a mix of surprise and curiosity on his face as Junhyung comes to plop down at his seat beside Kyuseok.

“It’s true,” the midlaner nods importantly. “Cute would be an understatement. Also let me in,” he elbows Kyuseok, who rolls his eyes.

“Looks like Gunmo will have to carry us today,” he adds Junhyung to the party, and the toplaner laughs when the other boy blows a raspberry at Kyuseok, crossing his legs on the chair as he opens Inven on his monitor.

“Support me well, then,” he grins, as Coach Jongwon walks by, peering at their screens.

“Ah, believe me,” Kyuseok smiles, then, half to himself, as the queue pops. “We will.”

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> \so/ this was completely self indulgent, written to blow off exam stress and procrastinate my assignments weww. [mvp](https://youtu.be/RG1OTnGSFQg) is a good and lovely team of weird children, do give them a chance in your heart \o/ thank you for reading if you've gotten to this point OTL and hope you have a great day!! comments will be appreciated, hehe~ ^.^


End file.
